Midnight Diner is a Japanese TV show on Netflix. It’s about a tiny restaurant that’s only open from midnight to seven o’clock in the morning. I discovered it last week and am savoring its melancholic rhythms. There’s something particularly nourishing about it during the clusterf__kery of recent days. Don’t worry. That’s as far as I’ll get here to acknowledging the week’s headlines.
“When people finish their day and hurry home, my day starts,” says the restaurant’s chef. He’s fictional, as is the diner, although it reminds me a little bit of the deli downstairs from us. Whenever I walk in there after midnight, lost souls are chatting with Ali the night manager. It’s a dreamlike atmosphere that evaporates in the morning light. Ali is one of life’s great listeners.
The Midnight Diner menu is minimal: Pork and vegetable soup, beer, and sake. But the chef, who has a mysterious scar on his face, ‘The Master’, will also cook whatever his regulars ask for. He’s stoic, but you can tell he’s seen a lot. I like to project the same vibe when I’m hanging out in bookshops. You know. The characters who show up at his diner are from all over. From washed-up comics to drag artists and career criminals, they all have stories. But what’s particularly moving about the show is their engagement with the food. They often ask ‘The Master’ to make them favorites from their childhood. You can see the nourishment in their faces mixed with various midnight feelings. There is despair and longing as well as relief and humor. These are the things that show up more in people when it gets dark.
Escapism is one thing. I also recommend the show because it’s subtle in an era where subtlety has lost its currency. Often, when we’re communicating, we’re asking ourselves how we can be more direct. How can we say what matters in the fewest words? How can we bludgeon each other with our call to action? I get it. It’s important. I mean, it’s how I earn a living. But when we do only that, we also lose the opportunity to create an atmosphere. To an extent, we’re all depriving ourselves of the opportunity to enjoy moods.
I revel in the ability to simplify. I enjoy the creativity of telling complex truths in new ways. But likewise, I’d like us all to remember that there is joy to be had in complexity. Not everything needs to be straightforward. We can enjoy the oblique. Even, perhaps especially, even, when we’re only watching it on Netflix. I wish you a pleasant week and I’m sorry America appears to be spiraling deeper into darkness. I’m going to try to picture myself as ‘The Master’ in a film noir version of this country for the next few days until I’ve calmed down enough to think more clearly. Meantime: What can I get you to eat?
